The Highroadman
by Spuffy is a -gasp- XemoX
Summary: The Highwayman with a twist. FFX2 style. Rikku is the landlord's daughter. Baralai is the highroadman. Gippal is the ostler. It's actually good. Now read! T for character deaths. Not so poemy.


Hey, this is Spuffy, again.

I had this stupid idea, and you're going to read and review it!

The Highwayman was written and owned by Alfred Noyes, not me! I don't own Final Fantasy, or Final Fantasy X-2.

Pairings: BxR

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The Highroadman

There was a strong wind in the Mi'ihen Highroad. The moon was shining in slate grey sky lighting the way for a silver-haired man riding his Thunder Drake. The road was a winding ribbon through the grassy fields. He rode the Drake to the door of the shop.

He wore a green over coat with Yevon symbols to confuse the many guards. He rode around the yard, whilst his staff was twinkling in moonlight.

The Drake clattered and clashed on the stones. The man tapped his staff against the shutters of the shop windows. But the shop was locked up for the night. He whistled a bit and someone was waiting. Rikku, the landlord's emerald-eyed daughter. She sat at the foot of her bed and braided her golden hair.

In the darkness of the courtyard, Gippal the ostler listened. He was blonde also, and had an eye patch over one of his eyes. He was in love with the landlord's daughter but she paid no attention to him. The ostler listened dumb as a dog, to what the robber had to say:

"One kiss, my love. I'm after a prize tonight. But I shall be back with gold, before the sun has risen. Yet, if they attack me, and fight me through the day, then look for me by moonlight. Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to you by moonlight, though the Farplane shall bar the way."

He rose high in the stirrups and couldn't reach her hand, but she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burned like a brand, a golden cascade of her hair fell upon his chest. He kissed the yellow waves in the moonlight. (Oh, sweet golden waves in the moonlight.) He tugged at the reign, and galloped to the west.

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He didn't come at dawn, and still no appearance at noon. And on the tawny sunset, before the rising of the moon, when the road was gypsy's ribbon, looping the grassy fields. The Yevon troops came marching up to the shop door.

They said nothing to the landlord; instead they drank his ale. They took his daughter and bound her to the foot of the bed. Two of them knelt her at the casement, with muskets at their side. There was death at every window, and hell in only one. Cause, Rikku could see through the casement, the road _he_ would ride.

They tied her up to attention, with many snickering at this. The tied a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast. "Now, keep good watch." One said and he kissed her. She could hear his words, _Look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to you by moonlight, though the Farplane shall bar the way._

She twisted and struggled with the knots behind her, but the held strong. She writhed her hands until they were wet with blood or sweat. They stretched and strained in the darkness, and every hour felt like a year or two. Till, now the stroke of midnight. Cold, on the stroke of midnight. The tip of her finger touched the trigger. The trigger was at least hers.

The tip of her finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest. She stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast. She wouldn't risk them hearing; she wouldn't strive again. The road lay bare in the moonlight, blank and bare in the moonlight. And the blood in her veins in the moonlight throbbed for lovers return.

_Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot. _Had they heard it: The Drake riding in the courtyard? _Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot. _Were they deaf? How could they not hear? Down the ribbon of the moonlight, over the brow of the hill, the silver-haired man came riding. The Yevoners looked to their priming. She stood up, straight and still.

_Tlot-tlot, _in the frosty silence. _Tlot-tlot, _in the echoing night. He came nearer and nearer. Her face flushed white. Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she took her last breath. Her finger moved on the trigger. The musket shattered in the moonlight. Her skin broke and bled in the moonlight. In doing so warned him—with her death.

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood. Bowed, her head over the musket, drenched in her own maroon blood. Not till dawn did he learn, his face grew gray to hear it. How, Rikku, the landlord's green-eyed daughter, had watched for her love in the moonlight and died in the darkness.

Back he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to sky. With a white road smoking behind him and his staff raised high. Shot rung out and the Drake and man went down. Down like a dog on the highroad. He lay in his blood in the highway, with his drake right beside him.

_And they say, in the dead of a winter's night. When the wind is blowing through the highroad._ _The moon was shining in slate gray sky lighting the way for a silver-haired man riding his Thunder Drake. The road was a winding ribbon through the grassy fields. He rode the Drake to the door of the shop._

_The Drake clattered and clashed on the stones. The man tapped his staff against the shutters of the shop windows. But the shop was locked up for the night. He whistled a bit for someone was waiting. Rikku, the landlord's emerald-eyed daughter.

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If you want the original, Google it.

Obviously I didn't copy all of it. That's plagiarism. There are some lines I copied exactly, and I'm telling you I did not right them okay. Get off my back; I already have a ton of lawsuits on me!

No, I kid, I kid. I'm too young.

Read and Review! Now, even if you hated it. Even if you're not a member review. You can!


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